Return

The mountain sings,

Echo of your name.

She has started writing a story,

Of you, of us.

How the morning showed a new day,

How we embraced the first ray,

Of the sun, from the terrace.

The serene breeze blew my hair,

And you whispered on air,

“You are mine”.

I spoke nothing, only smiled.

The morning memories of solitude,

Are blissful gifts, like heaven on earth,

Beautiful moments, together, we had.

The mountain narrates me your story,

How you played on the lap of her,

While playing in the rain,

Your childhood memories are recollected,

Once again.

The season of snowfall has come,

It’s looking so beautiful, now,

Counting the days, for your return.

Years passed, seasons changed,

But here is still someone,

Awaiting, to write a story new,

The morning light leaves for us,

A little drop of mountain dew.